


The Perfect Team

by Badwolf36



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Families of Choice, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nyanko-sensei is a Good Bodyguard, Sickfic, natsume protection squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 12:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10465524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwolf36/pseuds/Badwolf36
Summary: Touko Fujiwara is not a woman who gets easily flustered.But she has to admit that she gets a bit nervous when Nyankichi streaks down the stairs into the living room where she’s sitting with Shigeru, the golden bell on his red collar jangling wildly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This show has stolen my heart. It's so quiet and gorgeous and I have never wanted to hug a fictional character more than I do Takashi Natsume (and possibly Nyanko-sensei in either form).

Touko Fujiwara is not a woman who gets easily flustered.

She’s weathered all sorts of storms through her life, from occasional struggles in school, to rare fights with Shigeru, to balancing the responsibilities that come with caring for a child who clearly isn’t used to being cared for.

But she has to admit that she gets a bit nervous when Nyankichi streaks down the stairs into the living room where she’s sitting with Shigeru, the golden bell on his red collar jangling wildly. She looks up from her book at the odd cat Takashi brought into their home, Shigeru doing the same from his newspaper next to her.

“Nyangoro?” he questions. “You hungry?”

The cat is practically an empty pit, but he doesn’t trot off to the kitchen like Touko expects. On closer examination, Touko would say the cat looks anxious. It seems preposterous, but then he yowls like he’s been stabbed and the hair on Touko’s arms stands straight up.

“Nyankichi?” she asks, setting her book down on the side table. At the attention, Nyankichi eyes her, then races over. He bites carefully at her tan skirt, tugging on it.

“Well, that’s strange,” Shigeru says. “It’s almost like he wants you to follow him.”

“Wasn’t he…?” Touko glances upstairs, where Takashi’s room is. Touko’s heart squeezes suddenly, and she stands abruptly. Nyankichi, apparently satisfied at his progress, drops her skirt. He dances a few feet away before he looks back; and his intention to lead them upstairs is obvious.

“We should check on him. Maybe the cat’s just playing a game, but…” Shigeru is already starting toward the stairs, newspaper abandoned on the floor. Touko is a half-step behind him and both of them just a few steps behind the large cat as he bounds toward Takashi’s room at a brisk pace.

Nyankichi slips through the large gap between Takashi’s door and its frame, meowing loudly and insistently as Shigeru slides the door open fully.

While the sight of Takashi sprawled out on the floor unconscious is not completely foreign, Touko’s hand still flies to her mouth as she rushes to his side and folds to her knees next to him.

The cat is sitting by Takashi’s head, his right front paw patting insistently at his cheek.

“Takashi-kun?” she asks, pressing her fingers into his thin wrist to take his pulse. She sucks in a sharp breath when she finally finds it.

Touko takes in the unnatural pallor of Takashi’s skin (pale even by the teenager’s fair standards), the odd splay of his skinny limbs (like he’s fainted instead of taking an impromptu nap), and lastly, the frighteningly steady stream of blood from his nose onto his blue-and-white sweatshirt-clad arm (tucked beneath his head like he tried to stop his fall and failed).

She scans his room quickly, trying to find some source for his sudden collapse, but only sees his schoolwork spread out across his desk, two cushions (one pinned under Takashi, and the other empty across from him), and an old green notebook half under his desk, as if it had been hastily shoved or kicked there.

Shigeru, ever the steady, dependable man she married, rolls Takashi onto his back, then pulls him up into a sitting position. He braces Takashi up with his own body, tilting the youth’s head forward so the blood doesn’t drown him.

“I’ll get some towels,” Touko says, springing up. “Should we call the doctor? Or take him to the hospital?”

“Let’s see if we can wake him up first,” Shigeru suggests, although there’s an odd edge to his voice that Touko can’t place. Fear, maybe.

Touko hurries out and returns with a stack of ratty hand towels and a basin of cool water.

“Does he have a fever?” she asks, and Shigeru obediently shifts until he can press one hand against Takashi’s forehead and the other against his own.

“Yes, although not as bad as he’s had. I think the bleeding’s slowing down a little too.”

Relief floods Touko at that, but another look at Takashi quickly washes it away. She hands Shigeru a damp towel after wringing it out, taking another and doing the same before moving closer to Takashi. The boy hadn’t made a peep despite the manhandling when Shigeru propped him up, but he moans softly when she presses the cool cloth to his forehead.

“Ssssh, ssshh, you’re alright,” she murmurs. Shigeru swipes up the majority of blood on his face before holding the cloth under Takashi’s nose with just enough room to allow him to breathe.

After a few moments, she re-wets her towel in the basin, wringing it out again before pressing it to Takashi’s neck this time. He squirms in Shigeru’s hold, but doesn’t awaken.

“Shigeru?” Touko asks after several long minutes have passed.

“Come on, Takashi. Wake up. Can you do that for us?” he says instead of answering her. The cloth in his hand is already stained, and the sight of it, of _her Takashi’s blood_ , is making Touko feel a little ill.

Suddenly, a loud, almost-shouting meow echoes in the room, and both adults’ attention shoots to Nyankichi, forgotten in the commotion. He’s settled by Takashi’s feet, both front paws resting on his owner’s left ankle. As they watch, he slaps his left front paw against Takashi’s shin, as he sometimes does when he wants food or to be picked up.

“Nyangoro…” Shigeru starts to admonish, but then a low whisper interrupts him.

“Knock…off, Sensei. No…sake.”

Touko frowns for a second at the comment, but then a smile breaks over her face as she realizes Takashi is back with them.

“Takashi-kun! How are you feeling?” She’d learned early on not to ask him if he was okay, because he had a tendency to nod his head and smile, even when he was terribly ill or had had an awful day.

“I don’t…What happened?”

“We’re not sure,” Shigeru answers. “Nyangoro came and got us and we found you passed out. Your nose is bleeding.”

Takashi’s hand moves against his face, finding Shigeru’s hand and the towel he’s holding there.

“Oh,” he says faintly. Shigeru lets him take control of the towel, but he doesn’t leave his place at Takashi’s back.

“You’re running a fever as well. Did you feel ill when you came home?” Touko asks, again pressing the cool cloth to the back of Takashi’s neck. She leaves her hand there as much to hold the towel in place as to assure herself that Takashi is likely going to be okay.

“No, I...” His eyes dart between Touko and Shigeru, then drift to his cat, who’s now curled up against his ankles. Touko swears the pair exchange a weighted look before Takashi sighs. Sheepishly, he says, “Maybe a little.”

“Takashi-kun! You promised me you were going to tell me if you felt bad, even if it was a little!” Touko scolds, before reining herself back in. It’s not what Takashi needs right now, and judging from the far-off expression that’s drifted into his eyes, yelling is something he’s far too used to when he’s sick. More quietly, she says, “You know we worry about you.”

“I…I know.”

There’s an awkward moment where they all just sit there frozen, an odd tableau of two worried adults who are trying to appear calm, one sick teenager with a guilty expression, and a funny-looking cat.

Shigeru is the one who breaks it; eternally practical.

“Has your nose stopped bleeding yet?”

“Ah, not quite.” Takashi presses the towel to his face, wincing slightly. He then seems to realize what he’s holding and abruptly pulls it away from himself. “I’m ruining your towel.”

“It’s an old one,” Touko says. She’d grabbed it for that precise reason, but Takashi still seems distressed, eyes transfixed on the stained fibers. “I’m more worried about _you_ than a towel.”

“Oh.” He sounds surprised, and Touko has to suppress the desire to track down the relative (or even relatives) he once stayed with who made him think that he was less worth than a piece of cloth. She almost says something, but Takashi presses the towel back under his nose and she lets it go.

She notices his hands trembling at the same time Shigeru gently reaches out to steady Takashi’s arm.

“Easy,” Shigeru murmurs, and Takashi freezes briefly before taking in a deep breath.

“I should probably go to the bathroom and wash up,” he says. Nyankichi makes an odd noise from down by Takashi’s ankles, almost like a _harrumph_ from an old man. But Touko puts it aside (like Takashi’s white crow, and how it sometimes sounds like he’s carrying on a conversation in his room alone, and the way he sometimes flinches if she or Shigeru raise a hand toward him to pat him on the head or stroke his hair).

“Let us help you up then,” she says. “Shigeru, darling.”

“Yes,” he responds, already moving into position. Between the three of them, they get Takashi on his (unsteady) feet, and he presses the towel back onto his face as he takes a step away only to have Shigeru snag him by the elbow as he falters. “Perhaps we _should_ go to the doctor.”

“No!” Takashi immediately protests, then blushes pink under his fever. “No, I, uh, I think I’m probably fine now.”

He dabs at his face again, and Touko despairs over the gray bags under his eyes that never seem to fade. He looks exhausted, like a plant withering in early fall that’s struggling desperately to flower one more time. Touko twists the towel she’d been using to mop Takashi’s neck between her hands.

“I’ll go grab you some tea. Would a bath help you feel better?” she offers. She wants to respect Takashi’s growing independence, while at the same time give him the care his life seems to have been devoid of for years.

Takashi hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head.

“I think I should just go to bed, maybe.”

“OK. But feel free to change your mind. It’s not a bit of trouble.”

Takashi manages a weak smile.

“Thanks, Touko-san.” He pauses. “Tea…um…does sound good though.”

“Done,” Touko agrees cheerfully. She exchanges a glance with Shigeru, conveying _Take care of him and make sure he gets cleaned up_ and receiving _Of course I will, oh, dig out the fever medication while you’re getting the tea w_ ithout either of them saying a word.

Touko steps out of the room ahead of them, heading down the stairs while Takashi and Shigeru make slow progress down the hall toward the bathroom.

She spends longer than she usually would throwing the towel into the laundry basket for later, fussing with the kettle, and then sorting through the fever medications in she and Shigeru’s bathroom cabinet (they’ve started keeping a good variety on hand for Takashi’s sake). She wants to give Shigeru enough time to get Takashi settled.

Finally though, she loads up a tray with three cups of hot tea, a glass of water, and a couple of fever tablets before heading back upstairs.

When she gets back to Takashi’s room, she finds him sitting up in his unrolled futon, Shigeru and Nyankichi on either side of him. He’s wearing his long-sleeved yellow pajamas now, and he’s exchanged the towel for a pair of rolled-up tissues he’s stuck up his nostrils. They’re already stained crimson at the tops, but Takashi doesn’t seem too uncomfortable.

“Tea,” she announces, managing to balance the tray carefully enough that she can kneel down next to Nyankichi.

She hands the fever tablets and the water to Takashi first, then passes Shigeru his cup.

Takashi dutifully takes the medication (navigating the tissue ends by holding them up out the way with one hand). All of them are too familiar with this routine for him to put up a fuss. He drains half the water glass, then sets it down on the tray.

“Here you go,” Touko says as she hands him the cup. “Careful! It’s still hot.”

Takashi smiles gently at her before blowing across the surface of the liquid to cool it. They sit in silence for several minutes, all of them sipping their tea. At one point, Shigeru fetches a wastebasket and lets Takashi deposit the soiled tissues inside it. He sniffs a few times, but declares the bleeding has stopped.

Touko feels something clench in her heart as they all sit there together.

_This is my family **.**_

She wonders if, some day, Takashi might share that thought.

“Touko-san?” Takashi interrupts her thoughts, his tone a bit muzzy. “Were those pills the ones with the sleep medication in them?”

Touko presses a hand to her mouth in mock surprise, as if she hadn’t meant to pick those particular tablets. She had, of course, but Takashi didn’t need to know that.

“I’m so sorry! I thought I grabbed the non-drowsy ones!”

“It’s…s’okay,” Takashi says, instantly forgiving her.

She glances at Shigeru as Takashi’s gaze returns to his tea cup, and he gives her a swift wink. Being a parent, even a foster one, is hard, but she likes to think in moments like these that they are managing to keep Takashi’s best interests at heart.

Nyankichi starts purring at her side, if the low, grumbling noise he produces could be called such.

It takes Shigeru longer to place the sound, because he finally exclaims, “My goodness, is that Nyangoro’s rendition of purring?”

The cat stops at that, shooting Shigeru a look that would be indignant if it were worn by a human.

All three of them stop and turn to Takashi when he starts giggling.

“Sensei!” he snickers. He sets his cup back on the tray so he can try to stifle the giggles behind his hands, failing miserably the entire time.

Touko’s not sure she’s ever heard Takashi laugh like that; so free and utterly delighted. She ponders whether it’s a side effect of the medication, or Takashi finally ( _finally!_ ) feeling comfortable around them.

Nyankichi doesn’t appear to share Takashi’s mirth, particularly when it’s at his expense. The cat hops on Takashi’s legs and marches up the length of his body until he’s sitting on his lap. From there, he plants his paws on Takashi’s skinny chest and leans forward, letting his not-insubstantial weight tip the boy backwards.

“Hey!” Takashi protests, batting at the rotund creature. “It was a nice sound. Nice! Don’t be cranky.”

“I think Nyangoro probably has the right idea for you,” Shigeru says as Nyankichi curls up on Takashi’s chest. “Early bedtime. Can I get you anything?”

Takashi hesitates, but then asks, “Maybe some extra tissues? In case my nose starts bleeding again.”

Shigeru gives him a nod, pats his shoulder, and then moves to stand, empty tea cup in hand.

“Back in a moment.” He walks around the end of the futon and Touko trades him his cup for Takashi’s water glass.

Touko rests her hand against Takashi’s forehead after Shigeru’s stepped out, frowning at the heat she finds there.

“I think you should stay home from school if that fever is still there in the morning. Or if you’re still feeling ill. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

Takashi briefly pushes up into her touch before dropping back against his pillow.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. Then, he confidently adds as he winks at his cat, “I’m sure Nyanko-sensei will guard my sleep.”

Nyankichi makes another odd noise, but doesn’t move from his perch. He also doesn’t object when Takashi starts scratching behind his ears with both hands.

“Delivery,” Shigeru says as he returns, brandishing a box of tissues and a full glass of water.

He sets them down by Takashi’s hand, close enough that he can reach them, but not close enough that he’ll knock them over.

Ruffling Takashi’s hair again, he says, “Feel better and get some rest.”

Takashi gives him a little smile and nod, eyelids starting to drift down more frequently than they rise up.

Touko spends a long moment tucking the blankets in around Takashi and Nyankichi. She wants to press a kiss to his forehead, but she knows Takashi wouldn’t accept (understand?) the gesture just yet. She also knows she couldn’t stand to see him flinch if he saw it as anything other than the compassion and love it would be. Instead, she pats his shoulder and briefly strokes Nyankichi’s head before standing up with the tray in her hands.

“You’ll let us know if you need anything, right?” she asks, pausing at the door.

He hums softly, already drifting off.

“‘Cause you’ll be there,” he says, completely missing the way Touko’s eyes dampen and Shigeru’s hands clench at his sides.

“Just…just downstairs,” Touko forces out. “Don’t hesitate for a second. It’s no bother at all.”

“‘Kay,” Takashi murmurs, then stops talking.

Shigeru switches off the light, and then closes the door halfway after Touko steps out ahead of him.

They make their way downstairs in silence, ending up in the kitchen. Touko sets the laden tray down next to the sink, but makes no move to wash the dishes it holds.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Touko reaches for Shigeru’s hand. He takes hers as he sits as well; both of them trying to take in the eventful evening.

“I started soaking his sweatshirt and that towel in the downstairs sink,” Shigeru says at length. “Hopefully the blood won’t set. The towel may be a loss, but like you said, it’s just an old rag.”

“Yes.”

“Should…”

“He….”

“Go ahead,” Shigeru says.

“He…Takashi-kun…he’s…for him to think….” She stops, then shakes her head. “Never mind. Do you think we should take him to the doctor tomorrow?”

“It probably wouldn’t hurt. If Nyangoro hadn’t fetched us, I do worry about what might have happened.”

“Me too.”

There’s another long pause, wherein Shigeru begins tracing his thumb across the top of Touko’s hand. It still makes her feel like a giggly schoolgirl, regardless of age or situation. But even that giddy feeling doesn’t make her forget the way Takashi had looked strewn across his bedroom floor, pale and hurt and…

“We’re going to take care of him,” she whispers, the words fierce despite their low volume.

Shigeru nods, and squeezes her hand as he agrees, “He deserves nothing less. And we’ll give him all we can.”

Touko squeezes back, shifting until she can rest her head on Shigeru’s shoulder.

Eventually, Shigeru stands up, tugging her with him.

“I’d say an early bedtime isn’t a bad thought for us either. What do you think?”

Touko ducks her head. “You go ahead. I’ll just tidy up a bit.”

Shigeru gives her a shrewd look, but releases her easily enough. He gives her cheek a quick peck, and then heads for their bedroom.

Touko putters aimlessly for a handful of minutes, wiping down the counter, setting out a few things she’ll need to pack Shigeru’s lunch (and possibly Takashi’s) tomorrow, even going to the living room and putting the newspaper Shigeru has scattered across the floor back on the table.

In the end though, she can’t resist the temptation to sneak back upstairs and look in on Takashi one last time.

She’s surprised to find Nyankichi just outside Takashi’s door, as the cat had appeared to be sound asleep when she’d tucked him in with Takashi.

“Is he…?” she asks, suddenly fearful that the cat had been about to fetch them for another crisis. She then realizes she’d asked Takashi’s _pet_ a question and honestly expected an answer. The cat tilts his large head at her, then rubs it against the open doorframe.

Touko peers into the dark of the room and finds Takashi asleep, and peacefully so. As she watches, he rolls over onto his side, coughs a few times, and then settles again.

“Oh,” Touko says in relief, dropping her skirt from where she had unconsciously wrapped it up in her fists.

She stoops down and cups Nyankichi’s furry cheeks between her palms.

“You were a very good kitty today. I’m going to make sure there’s extra treats in your bowl tomorrow.” The cat’s eyes light up at that, and he makes that funny rumbling purr again. Touko wants to laugh at the absurdity of it, but settles for smiling widely. “You’ll take care of him, just like he said, won’t you?”

Nyankichi head-butts her knee with his wide forehead, an obvious agreement if she’s ever seen one.

“Good. We make a perfect team then.” She stands up, then almost trips as she tries to take a step and Nyankichi threads himself through her ankles.

“Careful!” she admonishes, still mindful of the sleeping boy just feet away. Then she stops and considers something she read when Takashi first brought Nyankichi home (his request to keep the cat the very first thing he had ever asked for for himself).

_Cats often claim what they consider theirs (be it territory, other animals, or people) by scent-marking._

It’s something Nyankichi has never done to her before, although he’s certainly willing to sit by her as she cooks and beg for treats.

“A perfect team,” she repeats as she bends enough to scritch Nyankichi under the chin. “Now back to work.”

Nyankichi lets Touko shoo him back into the room with a twitch of his bobbed tail. The light from the hallway is just enough for her to catch a glimpse of him worming his way under Takashi’s outstretched arm and curling into his side. Satisfied, she steps away from the gap at the door.

She pauses at the top of the stairs to wipe her cheeks with the tips of her fingers, flicking away the wetness that’s stretched from her eyes to the tips of her smile.

Touko Fujiwara is not a woman who gets easily flustered after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it.


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